Corruption
by timydamonkey
Summary: [One shot] Harry never thought that he’d understand Voldemort. However, power goes to the head… something Harry learns with a price. He finds himself understanding, though refusing to condone his own actions… [SEQUEL: Blood Lust]


**Corruption: **

**One-shot:**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Summary: One-shot Harry never thought that he'd understand Voldemort. However, power goes to the head… something Harry learns with a price. He finds himself understanding, though refusing to condone his own actions…**

**A/N: This was written because I thought that the Wizarding World isn't necessarily safe if Harry kills Voldemort…**

**Please read and review. **

Dumbledore had told him that power corrupted people, but he didn't believe it. Power was just… an emotion, a feeling… Something nothing more than a feeling couldn't do anybody any harm, he thought.

So he chased the man who was corrupted by power. It was like a game of cat and mouse; one always chasing the other. Usually,Voldemort was the cat, stalking and searching for his prey. But Harry Potter, so-called saviour of the Wizarding World, decided something had to be done about Voldemort. He'd sat by attack after attack, reading about it in the newspapers, knowing that he'd at least have had a chance of stopping the attacks.

Ron and Hermione tried to stand by him but they also tried to stop him making any rash decisions. Hermione pointed out that although he _might _save people from Death Eater attacks, his presence would force Voldemort himself to come and then he would practically obliterate the place. Harry _did _listen but didn't really think.

He wasn't sure quite what pushed him; whether it was Bellatrix being sighted and that whenever he saw her, he recounted her killing Sirius, knocking him into the veil, or all of the captured Death Eater's breaking out of Azkaban or even the Death Eaters storming Muggle Communities and leaving behind dead members of the Order who'd arrived to fight them.

Harry knew the dangers of any action he might take, but he was willing to take the chance. He felt torn apart after losing his real family, those closest to his family and his friends in the Order. He didn't want to stand about and let it happen anymore.

The most recent death of those he knew was one he'd have dearly loved to happen when he was younger. He'd always thought that when the Dursley's died he'd be happy. However, he was filled with a strange emptiness and the fact that the remainder of his family had completely died out. However horrible his aunt, uncle and Dudley had been, he'd never have wished torture and death on them.

When the Dark Mark was seen in the sky there, it did seem to get more attention than most other attacks. Everyone seemed immensely worried, as it was the house of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, tired of everybody getting on his back, politely informed that he'd been in no danger as Voldemort would have to be brain-dead if he didn't know that he'd be at Hogwarts. He told them something he never thought he'd say in his life: they should worry about the Dursley's, not him.

Some people – Dumbledore, for example – only seemed to be worried about whether his blood bond had been severed.

Harry really didn't care.

So, all in all, it was only a matter of time before Harry ran off to fight his nemesis.

He did. He had to admit that it was rather foolish, but, non-the-less, he came out of it alive, and he even killed a few Death Eaters. He knew that he had to kill Voldemort, but a sense of dread had still tightened around him and nearly made him to sink to his knees as he killed them. Though a rather formidable duellist and saviour of the Wizarding World, Harry was still only a child.

He skulked around a lot after that, wanting time to be alone with his own thoughts. He thought about the power that had flowed through him and the guilt that had chased it out. He hid away from the others, apprehensive, not knowing what everyone might think if he told them that he'd actually killed someone.

He'd known he couldn't hide forever, yet still felt a sense of despair as he was called to Dumbledore's office.

"Harry," Ron started, but Hermione cut him off.

"HARRY POTTER! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" Harry found himself in a fierce hug from Hermione and blinked. He was strongly reminded of Mrs. Weasley. He didn't answer though, because what could he say, 'I was trying to better the Wizarding World'? It just sounded stupid.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore calmly. "Please calm down." Hermione looked rather like she wanted to yell at him again, but refrained at Dumbledore's request.

"I don't see what the big deal is," muttered Harry.

"You could have been killed!" exclaimed Ron.

"Look," Harry said, eyes flashing in silent anger. "What difference does it make? I'm still going to have to go and fight – and KILL – Voldemort anyway, won't I _Professor_?" Ron and Hermione looked confused: Harry hadn't told them about the prophecy because he knew how they would react. Harry continued, "it's not as if I even _want _to kill. I went and _killed_ several Death Eaters, and I don't think I've EVER made a worse decision!" He decided to not mention the reason why it was such a bad decision.

Dumbledoreremained calm. He looked like he was going to speak, but Harry cut in. "Look, Professor, whatever you're going to say, can it wait? I'm tired of this war for now!" _And forever _he added to himself, but didn't say that out loud. He didn't even wait for an answer, just left Dumbledore's office, feeling as though he was fighting back tears.

Ron and Hermione stared after him.

"Where's he going?"

"I don't know!"

Hermione grabbed hold of Ron's arm and smiled at Dumbledore. "Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore."

He smiled wearily in return. "Goodnight Miss Granger, Mr Weasley."

Hermione dragged Ron out of the room and down the corridor. They were practically running. "We have to follow him!"

Ron blinked. "Hermione, isn't he entitled to some time alone…?"

"Yes, but not now," she said firmly. "Come _on, _Ron!"

They rounded another corner but couldn't see where Harry had gone. "The castle's so big we'll never find him," Ron wailed.

"We wouldn't be able to follow him anyway," mumbled Hermione. She turned to Ron, who looked confused. "The invisibility cloak."

"Oh!" His face fell. "But if he's wearing the invisibility cloak, then won't he have the Marauder's Map and avoid us?"

"Not necessarily," was the answer. "But he could be anywhere. Now where do we normally go when we have to use the invisibility cloak or we'd get told off…?"

* * *

Harry was sitting in Honeydukes. He was itching to go and get a butterbeer and had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't a Hogsmeade visit and that he was supposed to still be in Hogwarts. Indeed, that was the only reason he was still in Honeydukes. He was trying to 'blend in' with the shop – it was a little easier that it was a sweet shop, so lots of children were in there. The only problem was that he'd be instantly recognized as Harry Potter, so he was hiding. However much he loved the sweets, he couldn't buy them, and Honeydukes wasn't the most roomy place in Hogsmeade. He sighed; everything was getting so complicated.

He'd gone to Hogsmeade pretty much as soon as he'd left Dumbledore's office, only making a slight diversion to go and get his invisibility cloak from Gryffindor Tower. He didn't want to draw attention to himself by having an invisibility cloak (and still, when he went anywhere, people recognizing him as the Boy-Who-Lived and introducing themselves to him), so he'd left it back in the passage. It was as safe a place as any: Filch knew most of the Hogwarts passageways, but not that one. Harry had a funny feeling that only he, Ron and Hermione knew where that passage was and where it came out.

He didn't know quite how long he sat there, only, when he looked up, the sun had sunk down in the sky and darkness was descending. He blinked. He had to get back to Hogwarts before they saw he wasn't there – not just him not being where everyone else was, but actually not being in the castle at all.

He kicked himself for leaving the Marauder's Map behind. He should have taken it with the cloak! If Ron and Hermione looked at it, they'd know he wasn't there! He didn't think that they'd look at it without him being there, but as they say, 'desperate times call for a desperate measures.'

He got up to go when a trembling witch darted through the door, eyes wide and panic-stricken. Her voice shook and was so high pitched that she seemed to resemble a banshee. "D-D-DEATH EA-EATERS!" She shrieked, and that was when all-out pandemonium broke out. It was chaos. Harry was doing his best to ignore the commotion; he was just wondering what to do. Should he take the time to run back to school or should he fight?

A young child decided for him. She was running and seemed to have stumbled away from her parents. She tripped and fell and a Death Eater towered over her. She was shaking like a leaf, eyes as round as saucers.

The Death Eater gave a sadistic little grin before looking somewhat stoical. He pointed his wand at her. She tried to scramble away but to no avail: she just wasn't quick enough. She'd been expecting it to be painless, just the killing curse and then death. This Death Eater, however, didn't seem too worried about killing her anytime soon.

"_Crucio."_ The girl started to twist around on the floor, writhing, screaming in pain, tears streaming down her face, begging for mercy. _Death Eaters don't give mercy, _Harry thought, his heart in his shoes. The shrieks seemed to rise an octave to his ears, and all he was doing was standing there and listening.

He felt sick standing there, transfixed in horrorwith tears silently trickling down his cheeks.

He wasn't helping. He was as good as a killer.

* * *

Hermione and Ron sat in Dumbledore's office again. Dumbledore was watching them from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Professor, have you seen Harry? We lost him and nobody else has seen him," said Hermione. She was worried, frantic even. She knew Harry that could look after himself, but that usually ended up with him knowing how to look after himself a little too well.

"I am afraid I have not, Miss Granger. I am most interested in talking to him when he returns, too." Dumbledore almost sounded regretful.

"We'll tell him when we next see him," said Ron, and Hermione nodded affirmatively.

As they got up to go, a head appeared in the fireplace. _By floo powder, _Hermione recognized dully. The man looked stricken and they identified him as Kingsley Shacklebolt: one of the remaining members of the Order as they remembered it.

"Order stuff," Ron mouthed at her and gestured for her to follow him in hiding so that they could 'overhear' the conversation. Hermione really wasn't happy about it but curiosity seemed to get the better of her.

"Albus, there's a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade… we're going to dispatch…" But Hermione and Ron didn't hear anymore for they were gone, hurriedly heading for the statue of the one eyed witch.

"Harry can't have good luck all the time, you know!" A frantic Hermione yelled to Ron. "What if we're too late? What if-" She was speculating the worst: he could be dead, he could be captured, he could be dead, he could be battling, he could be _dead… _He was one of her best friends and she didn't want to lose him.

Ron, who looked surprised at being pushed into the position of 'voice of all reason' for a change, looked at her oddly. "Hermione," he reasoned. "We don't even know if he's there yet, let alone anywhere near the Death Eaters."

_But he could be, _she thought. _He could **not **be, but he could be…_

His words didn't seem to comfort himself either, though, as neither of them slowed down as they raced for the statue, ignoring shouts from other students as they rammed into them in the crowded hallways. It was lucky, Hermione noted dimly, that no professors noticed them, but it wouldn't have stopped them running. At the moment they didn't need or want anything but to see if Harry was okay, and help him if necessary.

Neither of them really thought that Death Eaters might attack them; they were so distracted with their friend that they completely overlooked it. Luckily, though, they were still armed with their wands. After all, it's always a good thing to be prepared.

* * *

Harry felt that he didn't have a choice anymore: he was the pawn in a big game of chess, yet he wielded as much power as a King. He had to stop innocent people getting hurt. He couldn't sit and watch a young child suffer any longer; he shouldn't have even let her suffer that long in the first place. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" Harry yelled hotly, wand pointed at the offending Death Eater.

The curse was lifted as the Death Eater looked up, startled at the shouting. His lips curled into a cold smile. "Well, well, well," the Death Eater chuckled dryly. "Harry Potter." Harry froze for a moment, recognizing the voice. It was Lucius Malfoy.

"Malfoy," he snarled, feeling rather like he was talking to the Death Eater's son rather than him. "Leave her alone. She hasn't done anything to you."

"You wouldn't know that, Potter. But you're quite right; she's done nothing to me. It's not her that we're here for. You get that… _honour." _Harry shivered slightly, feeling very surreal, as if he was watching from afar and not actually involved. There were all these Death Eaters shooting hexes and unforgivables, people screaming… and he felt as if he just wasn't there.

An extremely close stunning curse brought him back to reality with a crash. He glowered at Malfoy, but he didn't seem to have moved. So, if it wasn't him… who could it be?

He figured out the answer, of course. It wasrather hard not to when the stunner hithim in the back. He fell.

Malfoy and the other Death Eater – one whose name he couldn't place – both strode up to him, both wearing identical grins. Harry gulped.

Malfoy pulled out something that looked like… an empty packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans? Then it him: a portkey. The other Death Eater grabbed hold of him and whispered, "_Finite," _before grabbing him, keeping him from getting away, and trying to get one of his hands to rest on the portkey. He was fighting against touching it in desperation.

Harry took that moment of confusion while the Death Eaters were concentrating on making him touch the portkey to do something that he'd rather not do, but at least it would draw attention to him and someone could inform Dumbledore or something. It was a long shot, but he figured that it was worth it.

"HELP! HELP!"

"_Silencio." _It was Malfoy's voice. He tried to yell out again, but no sound came out. Why had he allowed himself to be undefended from a silencing charm? He cursed himself for not concentrating properly, his only consolation being that he probably wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway because of the Death Eater restricting his movements. "For that, Potter," Malfoy continued, "we have company." He grabbed the arm of the little girl he'd saved, who'd been frozen, too frightened to run. _No! _He thought, struggling even more now, _I did not get captured in vain! She should be safe! _

He realized that it had been stupid, anyway, to run head-on into a battle with a Death Eater, but he'd felt that he couldn't help her otherwise – and she HAD to be helped. Even the scream was probably a futile attempt, and there were so many other screams around, so who would pay attention to his over any other? Very few people were getting help anyway; they were just running away. Harry really couldn't blame them. After all, running might just save their lives.

* * *

Hermione and Ron ran down the passageway. They were nearly there… then Ron tripped over something. They both spared a look at the thing… a silver cloak… Hermione's heart sank. "I knew he was here! I knew it!" She shrieked in frustration.

"Let's _go _then," said Ron, looking ready to get out and hex the next fifty people he saw.

"No, no," said Hermione, trying to calm down and regaining some of her common sense in the process. "You don't know _how_ many Death Eaters are out there Ron, you're just _asking _to die!"

"What do you suggest we do then?" Ron replied acidly.

"Wear the invisibility cloak," she said, throwing it over them before she'd even finished speaking. "Now, let's go!"

It was much harder to run under the cloak; they had to stay together or it would fall off, and that was out of the question. They had a bad enough times as it was as they clambered out of the passageway and caught sight of the commotion in Hogsmeade. The only bright side they saw was that no one would have noticed them emerging from the Honeydukes cellars, as the shop looked to be completely abandoned. Hermione didn't blame the owner.

"Quick," she hissed, and they both edged out of the shop cautiously.

Hermione soon found that being invisible was probably worse than being visible, as numerous times herself and Ron found themselves having to duck to avoid stunning spells and the Cruciatus curse. Luckily, they didn't find themselves in the path of any Avada Kedavra's. The killing curse didn't even seem to be in use; the objective seemed to be to cause as much pain as possible to as many people as possible. She felt sick.

There seemed to be screaming everywhere; the closer you got to people, the louder it was, then fading. _Fading like their hopes, their LIVES… _Hermione thought, close to tears.

_"…Please, I have a DAUGHTER, YOU can't kill…" _

_"…I 'aven' said er done ewt AGAINST YEH, SO don' kill me! I…"_

She watched the Death Eater's faces. They were contorted into very amused expressions. _They're not going to let them free! _It was something that she'd known, but it seemed to hit her harder then. It was one thing to read about those faceless people who were dead in the Daily Prophet, but it was another to be there, hearing them begging for mercy, knowing that the Death Eaters were only letting them carry on for amusement purposes, knowing that they would be tortured and killed, knowing that you could have helped them… Hermione suddenly realized why Harry had to help, but she was still mad, however noble his actions were. He was practically writing himself off without a reason!

Ron saw her distress and squeezed her hand comfortingly. She spared him a small smile, but found herself drawn back to the death and terror hanging around her.

She was trying to avoid the pleas that were falling on deaf ears, but it was impossible. Nothing could have drowned out the screams and anguished voices… The world seemed to slow down, and have no meaning except all the tortured people emitting horrifying screams. Their crimes – doing nothing wrong. Their punishment – torture and possibly death. She almost lost herself in all the voices, feeling as if everyone was dragging at her, beckoning for her to help… _But that's ludicrous! They can't even see me! _

"…_I'm a supporter, damnit! YOU'RE HURTING your own supporters…"_

"…_Let me GO! LET ME GO, DAMN YOU! I NEVER asked to be involved…"_

"…_HELP! HELP…"_

Reality suddenly seemed to return Hermione spun around. She recognized the voice. _Harry! _Ron felt the cloak suddenly twizzle around him and turned too. "Hermione, why did you do that…?"

He saw why. There, being held still by a Death Eater, was Harry. Another Death Eater, looking very annoyed, pointed his wand at the boy and muttered a spell. Harry's pleas for help silenced. He wasn't quite still, as those two Death Eaters where trying to force him to touch a packet of some kind. Hermione's mind worked quickly. _Of course, a portkey!_

She watched as the Death Eater who had silenced Harry grab hold of a little girl who'd been hidden from her view until then. "Oh no," she whispered. "Poor child…" Ron nodded in silent agreement.

"Come _on, _Ron," she whispered forcefully, running over to where the Death Eaters were. She grabbed his hand in her own and put both of them on the portkey. Mere seconds later, the Death Eaters managed to force Harry's hand, along with their own, onto the portkey. Harry's hand was right on top of hers; she saw his eyes widen in surprise, and he looked around frantically. He mouthed something, but Hermione couldn't tell what. She didn't have time to think about it any longer as the portkey activated, and she felt a jerk at her stomach and fell at a highly unfamiliar place. She stole a glance at Harry and watched his eyes widen in surprise; he definitely seemed to recognize it. Hermione's stomach turned: this really wasn't good.

She knew something was wrong, but she couldn't place it. She clutched the cloak to her to secure her hiding place, and then it hit her.

_Ron! _He wasn't under there with her! She looked around at wildly, seeing people on the floor, some unmoving, though they all still seemed to be alive. _They must have been tortured, _Hermione realized, and felt sick. Then there were the cloaked figures – the Death Eaters – those who'd been the cause of all the distress. There didn't seem to be too many of them, she guessed that the rest were still raiding at Hogsmeade, torturing more innocent people… She ripped her eyes from the sight to resume looking for Ron. She couldn't let herself get sidetracked! And then, she saw him and her stomach gave a horrible lurch.

He'd fallen from within the protection of the cloak and he lay, looking dirty and dishevelled, on the floor. Nobody had noticed him yet – nobody except her. He seemed to be a bit dazed, wondering where he was. She didn't think he'd caught sight of the Death Eater's yet, but it was only a matter of time… And if he drew attention to himself, he'd be as good as dead. _But then… he already is as good as dead. _Some lonely tears trickled down her cheeks as she beckoned for him to leave. _Go Ron, go! Get out of here! _She willed him mentally, too scared to speak. _Where's this Gryffindor courage now, when I most need it? _She thought furiously, crying. _Ron… Ron… Ron…_

"Oh, thank you," said a very sarcastic voice, catching her attention. It was Harry. The silencing spell must have been lifted. She turned around, as did Ron. The Death Eater got a rather nasty look on his face, while Harry's eyes widened. "_Ron…"_ She heard him whisper. She heard his horror. She understood his horror. She _caused _his horror.

She fell to the ground. "_Ron…"_ she whispered, almost seeming to be an echo of Harry. Nobody heard the voice though, all the better for her.

"Ah, Weasley," the Death Eater said to himself in an undertone that was horribly familiar. Then, Hermione realized: It was Lucius Malfoy! "How's your _dear _father? Rotting in his grave, I hope," the horrible man said. Ron was shaking with suppressed rage at the comment. Hermione knew that his father had died while on Order business, and his mother had been grievously injured. She was just getting back on her feet.

Ron didn't retort. Hermione just wanted to slap Malfoy, but knew that she couldn't. It was harder to stand and not be seen there, she determined, than to be standing there and waiting for death. They could defend themselves and defend each other. She couldn't. She just had to stand there and watch as her two favourite people in the world were facing almost certain death.

"Lucius," said an amused voice. Everyone seemed to turn mechanically to face the speaker. Hermione felt her face drain of blood. She'd never directly seen him, but she knew who it was – Voldemort! He chuckled dryly at Harry and Ron's expressions – she was glad that he couldn't see hers – and he fixed his eyes on Ron. She shivered, crying harder now, praying that by some miracle they'd all come out of there alive. "You are not needed." _Help him, please help him, somebody! It's more than I can do! _She turned to see Harry, whose face was screwed up in anguish, tears falling. He was staring at Ron, as if not believing that it was happening. _Oh, it's happening alright, Harry. I wish this were just a dream…_

"_Avada Kedavra…" _The jet of green light shot at Ron, and Hermione felt like screaming. She'd just sat there and watched her friend die. Her silent tears trickled faster down her face. She barely heard Harry's shouts, not even registering who was shouting, she was so lost in her own thoughts. _Ron… Oh, Ron… I'm so sorry… I can't make up for his death… But, I'll help Harry. He **killed **Ron… I'll help Harry beat him if it's the last thing I do! _She didn't drop the invisibility cloak; this would be better done with stealth. However, she was going to help Harry… she felt that it was almost her obligation now, and there was no way that she was going to ignore it.

* * *

_"Avada Kedavra…"_ His whole vision seemed to be enveloped in green as he stared at the jet of light. He wasn't just seeing the light, though. He was back at Riddle's graveyard, experiencing a whole load of déja vu and the curse was yet another a painful reminder of what had happened there three years earlier. His memories seemed to reflect in that green light.

_"Kill the spare…"_

"_Avada Kedavra…"_

_Cedric. Cedric falling, dead. Cedric's last few moments: killed for being with him._

In a flash he was back to reality as Ron hit the ground, dead. _"RON!" _He yelled. Ron was dead! He wiped the tears from his face with a grubby sleeve. He stood up stiffly, eyes fixed on Voldemort. _He'll pay… He'll pay… _"You'll pay for that," he said in a deathly calm voice that he barely recognized as his own.

The reply was an amused one. "Really, Potter? And how, exactly, do you plan on making me pay?"

The thought hadn't really crossed Harry's mind. How _could _he make Voldemort pay? Could Voldemort even die? He wasn't sure. Hagrid had once told him that he thought that there wasn't enough human left in him to die, but Harry disagreed. He thought that Voldemort was almost inhuman, but there was no way that he was going to believe that he was immortal. _And if he is, _thought Harry, _we're all screwed._

Harry decided to take a chance. _Okay, I supposedly have the potential to be as strong as – or stronger than – Voldemort. I'll take your word on that, Dumbledore. When his own curse rebounded at him, he was nothing more than a spirit and gone for 10 years, or 14 in the eyes of the public. And if I can get rid of him, even if only for a year or two, everyone can rest and I can get strong enough to defeat him! _The plan wasn't perfect, but it was the best one that he could come up with. He looked up at Voldemort, face twisted into an unpleasant sneer. "You'll see, _Voldemort._" He was almost mocking the name. It was rather a death wish, but he was mad enough not to care.

Voldemort pointed his wand at him, eyes narrowing to slits. "_Crucio." _The curse hit him and he fell to the floor, writhing around, trying to suppress his screams of pain, but failing. As the curse was lifted he was trembling and panting, staring into merciless blood red eyes. He forced himself to his feet shakily, testing his balance. He hadn't been under the curse for long, but he had been affected, although not as badly as he'd feared. He was still perfectly mobile, getting aware of his surroundings once more.

His attention snapped back to Voldemort as he spoke. "Bye, Potter. _Avada Kedavra._" Harry, now very glad that the Cruciatus curse hadn't shaken him too much, leapt out of the way of the path of green light, barely escaping the fate.

Blind rage overtook him and he felt his blood boil, seeing nothing but red. He'd always been trying to kill him… He'd killed his parents, he'd killed Cedric, his followers had killed Sirius and as a sort of joint effort they'd all wiped out those he cared about: Mr. Weasley, who was almost like a father to him, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Lupin, who really had acted as a sort of father to him, particularly after Sirius died, the Dursley's, even if he hadn't liked them all that much, they were still his _family, _Ron, one of his best friends… all of them had fallen before the darkness, though thankfully none of them had fell into that darkness. But now, he'd seen too much. Harry had had enough and he wanted nothing more than to have an ordinary life – something not possible until Voldemort was gone. And he _would _be the one to kill him, if it was the last thing that he did.

Harry had used the unforgivables before when he defeated the Death Eaters. He'd avoided the Cruciatus – he'd felt the pain of that curse, and didn't feel that that _anybody _deserved that sort of pain (except perhaps Bellatrix Lestrange for _laughing _when Sirius died when she as good as killed him), and, besides, he was certain that Voldemort's followers were subjected to the curse on a somewhat regular basis, anyway. For that, he'd rather felt sorry for them. He avoided the Imperius too, for he felt that if he could throw it off, then they probably could. Besides, what could he command them to do? Kill themselves? It wasn't a curse that Harry thought would be particularly useful, plus it could be blocked what seemed quite easily – after all, hadn't he nearly threw off the curse the first time it was used on him? And, at that point, he hadn't known anything about the unforgivable curses until that lesson! The only curse remaining had been the killing curse, and he'd used it. He hadn't enjoyed it, but it had worked – he felt a sense of terror at how easily he used the curse, but also a massive surge of power that just went through him. For that, Harry was not grateful.

His eyes flashed, he held out his wand and pointed it at Voldemort. He looked murderous and most people would have cowered under the look, but not Voldemort. _I think he gives himself too much credit_, thought Harry dryly. He smiled coldly, trying to imagine that it wasn't him who was doing this.

"I've had enough of you! _AVADA KEDAVRA!_" The jet of green light shot out of his wand, but that wasn't the only thing. At the instant that he shouted the killing curse, there was another shout.

"_STUPEFY!" _The jet of red light had also shot at Voldemort – he hadn't been expecting another attack, particularly one that seemed to come from… no one. Voldemort was stunned, unable to move, then the killing curse hit, ripping into him, he gave a scream – not of terror, but of pure pain and his body collapsed to the floor. Harry stared at him. _I did it… _He'd had help, but he still did it! How he did it he didn't know. Whether it was because he was so strong now and had used all that potential that he supposedly had or a combination ofthe stunnerand Avada Kedavra, he didn't know. He didn't really care, either.

He wasn't happy. He didn't have any feelings about the matter. He wasn't proud, just disbelieving. But, he had a sense of power… and it was so strong that he felt like he was being pulled into it. He stared, transfixed, at Voldemort's body, refusing to move. The Death Eaters had all disapparated, but he barely noticed. It was almost like the world had stopped and he was just staring at what he had done and the hunger for power was still tugging at him… Everything was so surreal…

"Thank you!" A wailing voice called at him, hands closing around his waist. Slowly he looked down and saw a little girl – the little girl who he'd saved. It was like he was looking at her through different eyes. It was _her _fault that he was here, it was _her _fault that Ron was here, it was _her _fault that Ron was dead…

He must have looked scary, he noted, because she backed away. He trained his wand on her, and gave a soft but empty smile. "_Avada Kedavra…" _The girl was dead in a flash of green light. It rushed out to her, and she didn't even try to jump out of its path. Those eyes… they would haunt him. So pure, so innocent… he was lost in a sea of blue as he stared at the eyes.

A single person ran forward, bring him back on land. "You killed her, you killed her! Brute, barbarian, dark wizard…"

That was what did it. _Dark wizard. _A dark wizard had just killed his best friend! He hid himself behind a mask of fury. "_Avada Kedavra!" _He snapped, green light once more shooting out of his wand and hitting its target, silencing any other protestors. Except, perhaps, one.

Harry turned away from them all – they were too shocked to do anything against him, particularly if he had the power inside him to defeat Voldemort! He let a few tears trickle down his face. He was himself again now. _What did I just do…? I **killed **them… They didn't even do anything… I'm so, so sorry… _He stared up at the sky. _It was wrong. I **know **that it was wrong… so why do I feel so… satisfied? Why do I want to kill the rest of them…?_

"HARRY!" A girl flung herself at him. He dimly recognized her as Hermione. He pushed her back and sat down, staring but unseeing. "Harry…?" She looked as if she'd been crying her eyes out. "Why did you do it? Why did you kill them?"

"…I don't know…" Her face contorted into an expression of rage. _Probably because I killed someone with no good reason… _

"But, you _killed _them! You killed Voldemort but, Harry, you acted and looked _just like him! _Harry, don't you see what's happening? Dumbledore told you to be careful, didn't he? You didn't listen! You're letting power get to your head, you're turning into a murderer…" Her eyes widened. "If I didn't know any better, Harry, I'd say you're turning into Voldemort!" Harry's eyes narrowed to slits – who was she to say that? Voldemort had killed Ron! And she was there the whole time… she could have helped him, but she didn't! He felt like snarling at her, but Hermione wasn't finished. "What's happening to you, Harry? That was nothing like you! It's like… you aren't even yourself, anymore!"

"You could have helped Ron…" He spoke in a flat monotonous voice. What he said wasn't really related to the discussion, but it was the only thing on his mind at the moment. That Hermione could have helped…

Her eyes filled with yet more tears, doing no justice to her already tear-stained face. "You could have as well! You have no idea how much I wanted to help him, and you did just as little as me, so _don't _tell me that I didn't help him! I already know that!"

What she'd been saying finally hit home and he visually relaxed – however, he wasn't relaxed inside at all. He buried his face in his hands. "…I don't know what's going on anymore, Hermione… I don't know what's happening to me! " His words were almost a whisper and he stared at his hands.

Hermione spoke gently to him, and Harry felt as if she saw him as aged about two. A surge of anger filled him yet again, but quickly subsided. "Harry… how about we go and see Dumbledore, okay?"

He laughed, but there was no humour in it. "You expect me to go there _now, _Hermione? When you've just admitted that I'm as bad as Voldemort? You expect me to go and see him _now?_" _That would just be a death sentence… _

"But, Harry, you can't stay like this! What are you going to do?"

"Look, Hermione, I appreciate you trying to help, but, please… I can't go and fit into the whole Saviour-of-the-World place again now, can I? I didn't even want it in the first place and I don't want to be there now! Plus, you don't even know how this feels! It feels… I feel like I have to kill, I have to do it! Would you risk putting me back around Dumbledore and so many innocent people now, Hermione?"

Hermione hesitated for a brief moment. It was all Harry needed. "Of course," he said bitterly. "You wouldn't even consider it, would you?"

"No, I mean, yes, Harry! I was…"

He interrupted her. "See? I can't do this, Hermione. I really can't." He closed his eyes for a moment, his hand fumbling to find his wand. He gripped it tightly and pointed it at his horrified best friend. "I'm sorry, Hermione… I'm so, so sorry… _Avada Kedavra…_" She fell in a heap, dead as soon as the spell struck her. "Hermione… I'm more sorry than you'll ever know."

The tears fell faster then as he registered what he'd just done and, again, for no good reason. His legs gave out and he fell to the ground, crying for both of his best friends who he'd lost both of within one hour, crying for himself – who he was and who he was to become and crying for humanity in light of what he knew would happen.

If you asked anyone what happened on that day, they would tell you that that was the day that the saviour Harry Potter died, and the day that the new Dark Lord was born.

**A/N: Heh, I hope you all liked it. That was very hard to write – I puzzled for a long time over how to kill of Voldemort, and decided to keep it kind of simple, using the combination of spells. I hope you like it. This took me AGES to write – please review! **


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